


On the Outside Always Lookin In

by theofficialheartwarmer



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theofficialheartwarmer/pseuds/theofficialheartwarmer
Summary: How did Larry really feel about his relationship with Connor? This is the requiem that Larry does sing (or rather, thinks) after Connor’s death.





	On the Outside Always Lookin In

**Author's Note:**

> This is about Larry Murphy’s feelings about his family, specifically Connor, and his regret about his lack of relationship with Connor.

1:32 A.M. That’s what time it was when Larry Murphy found himself sitting at the kitchen table in a pit of despair. His wife and daughter had already gone to sleep, or at least were pretending to be asleep. But Larry had been sleeping on the sofa the past two nights, avoiding Cynthia as much as possible. He didn’t need to stir the pot of family issues any more than he already had. 

Two days ago had been the worst day he’d had since the day he found Connor’s still, lifeless body. Scratch that. It was worse than that day. That day he had felt numb; he was in complete shock and couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, almost like it was a dream and that he would wake up with a good scare. But two days ago? That was the opposite. Two days ago was full of raw emotion, pain, resentment, anger, and sorrow. Cynthia’s hurtful words rang in his ears: “Connor’s death was all your fault! You were such a terrible father! You were never there for him when he needed you most! It’s no wonder he took his own life!” 

The words stung more than the seventeen bee stings he’d gotten when he was a boy and had accidentally disturbed a beehive with his baseball. The worst part wasn’t the “Connor’s death was all your fault!” Or the “It’s no wonder he took his own life!” It was the “You were such a terrible father!” You “were”. As though he no longer had the right to the title because of what Connor did. Even though he still had a living child in his care. 

He thought back to a day a long, long time ago. It was Connor’s eighth birthday party. They didn’t bother inviting anybody from school, since most of the parents didn’t want their kids around Connor after the printer incident. But that was okay. The four of them would have just as fun of a celebration. Cynthia had picked up a delicious chocolate cake from the local bakery, as well as a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream from A La Mode. (Larry chose to forget the part where Connor threw a tantrum when Cynthia said he could only have two pieces of cake). Zoe had drawn Connor a picture of the two of them holding hands, which Connor genuinely liked so much he hung it up above his bed. (He later tore the picture to shreds three years later when he’d found out Zoe had drank the last can of Pepsi in the fridge, but Larry chose to forget that part as well). 

What he remembered most about that day was the presents. He had bought Connor a brand new baseball glove, hoping to channel some of Connor’s extreme emotions into baseball. He would teach him how to break it in, how to catch and throw properly, and how to be a good sport. Larry hoped Connor would be as excited about the present as he was. 

He remembered putting the wrapped package in front of Connor, smiling at the almost giddy look on Connor’s face. Connor tore off the wrapping paper and held the glove in his hand, the giddy look on his face turning into one of dejection. “Oh….. thanks dad,” he said, doing his best to feign gratitude. Larry was a little disappointed by the reaction, but he told himself Connor would come around.

Later that night, Larry overheard Zoe talking to Connor. “Did you have a good birthday?” She asked. “You sure got some cool presents!” 

“Yeah, it was alright, I guess,” Connor replied. “But I didn’t get what I really wanted.”

“What did you really want?” Zoe asked.

“A skateboard,” he responded. “All I wanted was a skateboard.” 

Connor left the glove in the bag with the tag still on, and they never played a single game of catch together.

Cynthia was so right. Larry was a terrible father. How could he have been so oblivious, so selfish, even at such an early part of his relationship with his son? Connor had asked for one thing for his birthday, and did he get it? No. Because Larry had been too focused on what he wanted. That baseball glove developed into a fantasy that he craved. He wasn’t really thinking about Connor that day after all.

He recalled the other times in his life when he’d been a bad parent. When Connor would come home at 4:00 in the morning, smelling like weed, and Larry would pretend not to notice. When he’d missed Connor’s solo in the 5th grade choir concert (though supposedly Connor refused to sing it and ran off the stage). When he failed to realize his son was suicidal in the first place. 

God, how did I become such a total screw up? Larry thought to himself. He had always promised himself that he’d give his kids a better paternal experience than what his own father had given him. But he ended up becoming just as bad, no, worse. Because Larry Murphy’s father didn’t have a son who took his own life. But Larry Murphy did. 

Larry put his head on the table. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he quietly sobbed, trying his best not to wake up the rest of the family. “O Connor, o Connor, I’m so, so sorry. I failed you and your sister as a father, and I failed your mother as a husband. If I could only have another chance to prove to you how much I love you. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Please.”

Please.

Larry knew all the pleading in the world wouldn’t bring Connor back to life. So he plodded over to the sofa, crawled under the blankets, and tried to quiet his mind enough to sleep.

“I love you Connor. I love you, and your sister, and your mother, all so very much. My biggest regret is not telling you or showing you enough while you were still with me.”


End file.
